Unpredictable Fate
by Xl MiZz PaYnE lX
Summary: Returning to the ring after a brutal attack forced upon her by ex-boyfriend Paul [a.k.a. Triple H], Brigitte "Honey Bee" Payne must overcome obsticles to get her career back on track. The only things that stand in her way are her enemies. The number of en


*Disclaimer*  
  
I own nothing but Brigitte "Honey Bee" Payne!   
  
Chapter One - She's Back...   
  
Scene - Gund Arena, Cleveland, Ohio. 8:00 P.M. Eastern  
  
Brigitte "Honey Bee" Payne sighed to herself as she paced slowly over towards the entrance to the Gund Arena. The parking lot was crisp and cold. A cool winter breeze wrapped itself in Brigitte's long brown hair. Brigitte placed her hand on the door, the metal handle sending chills to her hand. As she stepped inside the building, she noticed the atmosphere was still the same. Everything was just as busy as when she was forced out of action. Workers buzzed around making last minute adjustments for tonight's episode of Raw. She smirked to herself, shrugging. She glanced to her left and right, before choosing to head down the left hall. She fingered the strap to her duffel bag as she glanced at the names plastered on the doors of locker rooms. She came across a familiar name as she came to an unexpected stop. "Triple H" was pasted on the door with temporarily black stickers. She eyed the name, slipping back into memories of when her and "The Game" had been an item. She was slowly drowned with the not so happy memories of Paul becoming abusive, striking her whenever he felt enraged. She shook her head as to ward off the thoughts. Her heart stopped as she heard his very own voice break through the barrier of which she placed within her head.  
  
"Well, Brig, I didn't think you'd have enough nerve to come back after the beating you received," blabbed Paul cockily.   
  
Brigitte shifted her weight as she glanced down at her feet. She wanted to retort a comment that would wound him badly, just as he had always did to her. She had been labeled dumb, useless, a whore, a slut, a bitch, and everything else in his great big book of insults. She bit her bottom lip. She didn't want to respond. She was too afraid of the consequences.  
  
"Awe, what's the matter? Don't wanna talk to an old friend? You know, one day you're gonna have too. Because face it, babe, I'm everywhere now." Paul placed his right hand behind her back, slipping it down to the lower part of her back, pulling her closely to him, their chests touching one another. Paul roughly pressed his lips against hers, pulling away with a big smirk planted upon his face. "So vulnerable. You make me sick." Paul lets his hand move down to her butt, groping her. Brigitte tensed as her duffel bag slipped off her shoulder. Paul shoved her up against the wall hard. She was too numb to give notice to the sharp pain that shot up her spine. Paul laughed as he still stood in front of her, gazing hungrily at her body. Brigitte leaned up against the wall for support as anger filled her eyes.  
  
"That's enough!" she fired back as she stood up straight. "You shoved me around for too long, and you know what? I've had enough. You sick bastard. As of now, if you ever touch me I swear, you'll be the one out of commission and...unlike me, you won't be returning. Now get the hell outta my way!" Brigitte snatched her duffel bag and slinged it over her shoulder. She pushed past the flabbergasted Paul and made her way down the hall, not glancing back once. She managed to stumble upon a door with a sign, which was obviously added as an afterthought because of it being notebook paper and taped upon the door. She smirked to herself noticing her name was written in black ink. She rolled her eyes as she entered the locker room, unaware that it'd be as half-assed as the sign appeared. She set her bag down on the weared leather couch. She eyed the room. Not even a tv. Damn.   
  
Today just wasn't her day. I guess they figured she had a lot to prove before receiving a decent locker room. She shrugged as she slumped onto the couch. She closed her eyes as she meditated, though she was hoping to meditate. Thoughts ran through her mind like Nascar racers trying to get to the finish line. What was she going to do about Paul? She scared him off for the time being, but she knew he'd have it out for her, and since he was such good friends with the McMahon's, he'd be able to get a storyline with her also. She clenched her fists. She would be damned if he'd ruin her career this time. If anything, she'd ruin his. Suddenly a knock on the door pierced through the silence as Brigitte jumped, startled.  
  
"Who in the hell...?" Words Brigitte didn't think the person on the other side of the door heard her say.   
  
"Is that anyway to address me?" the person replied.   
  
Brigitte, irritated rose to her feet, purposely shouting. "All right who the hell...stupid smart ass coming to knock on my half-assed door, what the hell! Trying to knock my door down, son of a bitch..." Her voice trailed off once she opened the door, which revealed Brock Lesnar. Brock smiled brightly as she leaned against the doorway, too lazy to support herself.  
  
"Wow, you look like hell."   
  
"Yeah, well, you look like shit you big oaf." Brigitte replied as she laughed. She moved out of they way, as if telling Brock it was okay to enter. Brock stepped in, almost as shocked as she was when she first entered.  
  
"Damn, guess Paul talked to Vince and got you a deal." Brock smirked as he searched for any expression on Brigitte's face. Brigitte shrugged, drifting off. "You know, I don't mind sharing my locker room."  
  
"Such a thoughtful person." retorted Brigitte, meaning to sound sarcastic.   
  
"Of course. So, what do ya say?"   
  
Brigitte paused for a second, pondering. She finally shoke all the negative thoughts out of her mind. "Sure, why not?" Brigitte waleds over towards the couch, grabbing the duffel bag, but before she could place it on her shoulder Brock slipped it from her hand and flung it over his own. Brigitte smiled admiring his generosity, or was she admiring his charm? Whichever it was, she liked what she saw. Brock extended his left hand out towards her, waiting for her to accept. She gazed at it with an arched eyebrow. She met Brock's blue eyes as her hazel eyes softened. She placed her small right hand within his big left hand, hooking their fingers together. Brock let the door swing open as the two walked out.   
  
Of course, Brock made sure to walk past Paul's locker room so that he knew Brigitte was being backed by him. Once they reached his locker room, he fumbled with the door knob, not moving his glance from Brigitte's big hazel eyes. Brigitte feeling quite uncomfortable, switched her glance to her feet. Brock, realized she indeed was uncomfortable, cleared his throat and pushed the door open slowly. He stepped to the side and let Brigitte walk in first. She gave him a weak smile as she glanced around the locker room. It sure was a lot bigger than hers. Brock set her duffel bag atop the leather couch. Brigitte let herself drop to the floor as she laid down. Brock eyed her curiously. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She opened her eyes and glanced up at the white ceiling.  
  
"You okay?" Brock questioned, breaking the barrier of silence.  
  
"I'm not six feet under yet," smirked Brigitte, replying.  
  
"No, you aren't. So, did Vince explain anything about a storyline?"  
  
"Heh. Like Vince would tell me anything, let alone inform me about anything. I imagine it's probably going to involve Paul."  
  
"Brig, maybe you shouldn't have returned. Wrestling has caused you too much damage. Plus, the last thing I want is to see you get hurt again.  
  
"Look, Brock. I respect you looking out for me, but wrestling is my life. I've changed so much, and I'm not letting any of these assholes phase me anymore. Do you know how quickly any one of these men backstage could have got me to drop to my knees and do as they pleased? Not anymore. I'm tired of being Miss Little Innocent. And another thing, I don't need you to protect me. I'm not a little girl, I can handle myself."  
  
Brigitte rose to her feet, exchanging a look of sternness, while Brock's gaze was soft. Brigitte didn't waste anytime, she quickly exited the locker room. She closed the door behind her, noticing a piece of paper taped on the door. The Raw Card. She gave it a quick glance. She almost fainted noticing she had a match against Sable. She laughed to herself. She noticed the stipulation...Anything Goes. She smirked sickly. Perfect.  
  
*Author's Note*  
  
Yeah, I realize this chapter was kinda short! I just basically wanted to introduce you all to Brigitte and get a feel of how her character acts. Chapter 2 should be out later on in the week. Enjoy and please review! Always nice to hear comments. 


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